


Interlude

by quirklessloser



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Green/Zelda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirklessloser/pseuds/quirklessloser
Summary: At times, the happiest day for some comes as a grim reminder for others.





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gladiatorAviator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gladiatorAviator/gifts).



> this is a work made with much love and also ‘one of one’ by duendita fueling me,, it’s actually based on an au a friend and i have been working on, so this is a fic of a fic that will come to be soon, i just got... impatient. the au actually has a bit more for the endgame ship, but you’ll have to wait and see just what it is... >:3c

As the music diminuendos, the melody completing its progression to a smooth sway, Shadow’s unmoving stare grows further dull. He does not mean to be a blight on the otherwise radiant glow that this day has cast upon the kingdom, but his heart stays heavy with regrets that others cannot share with him.

While it would be easy for many to overlook his distance, and he may prefer it that way, Red has not ever been so simple to shake off. The familiarity of his hand upon Shadow’s shoulder is remarkable, and he may have been able to recognize him even without the autumn flash of his suit.

“Why don’t you dance with me?” Red asks, his eyes warm for a shade of blue with such strong resemblance to the coolest depths of the sea.

Shadow does not answer immediately, but Red doesn’t wait for him to. His hand finds Shadow’s to pull him out of his seat, and if there was a protest to be heard, Red would not have noticed.

Dances have not often been shared between them, but when Red places his hand on Shadow’s arm, his body works off a faint memory to put his own upon Red’s back. He listens to the music, making little more than an uneducated guess at when to begin, and takes off.

It is chaotic, and not in the controlled way of a strange routine. Shadow had shirked their dance lessons prior to the event, always citing an excuse, though he was sure all of his teammates knew that he just didn’t want to do it. He is paying for it now, stepping on Red’s feet and bumping both of them into strangers. Despite his persistence, he feels about as elegant as a bull in a china shop, so he stops them close to the middle of the floor. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. Someone’s going to end up with a concussion at this rate,” Shadow says, his stance loosening as if he intends to leave.

“That’s alright,” Red replies. It is not often that he behaves in a way that is surprising, but he catches Shadow off guard this time. He switches their positions without missing a beat, guiding Shadow’s hand to rest on his arm and aligning his own with the slight jut of his shoulder blade. “I’ll teach you, then!”

There is only a moment’s hesitance to fall into the rhythm. “Right foot back,” Red’s voice is soft when he speaks, but his movements are hard. Not out of place or jerky, no, but forceful in a way that suits him quite well- only firm enough to ensure that Shadow will not fall out of line. 

Still, Shadow does stumble, his unlearned feet struggling to move where Red wants them to. He reprimands himself, knowing that he must only move in a square, yet he is failing to do it. The steps are simple by themselves, though he knows he must lack the skill to make them graceful.

He persists, though, one half stubbornness and the other half competition. Even Blue had managed to master this much, after all; he could see him dancing with a noble girl across the room.

Though he does not know how long it takes, Shadow finds himself beginning to do well. He moves when and where he is supposed to, because Red is patient and guides him there, over and over. Soon enough, the feeling begins to spiral into something a touch ethereal.

Shadow knows well how it feels to float, or even fly, but this exists in its own special definition. He feels his shoes touch the ground in the same way that he hears the music. It is far off, almost irrelevant, because the room isn’t spinning but he is, _they_ are, and he doesn’t think. The dance could be infinite or only a second long and he would never know, because time is gone, just like everyone else in the room. Their presence is lost to the bliss of security; Red won’t let him fall.

A voice says his name, and Shadow ignores it, until it repeats again. He is abruptly brought back down to earth, like a bird just learning how to fly. He can’t stay airborne forever, not yet.

“You like it,” Red says, in a matter-of-fact way that would be aggravating, if not for the happiness upon his face.

“I guess so,” Shadow answers, hoping to play it off as if he had liked it far less than he did. His cheeks hurt and his eyes burn, so he realizes with a great deal of embarrassment that he must have been smiling much wider than he has in a while.

Even someone with a demeanor as warm as Red’s must falter at times, but it still comes as a surprise when his smile fades. “Why have you been so out of sorts recently?” he asks, the tone so thoroughly disarming that Shadow cannot help to let his defenses down.

“Why haven’t you been?” Shadow murmurs.

The reality dawns upon Red, but it comes with no gasping or apologies. “I don’t think about it anymore,” he says, after letting the question hang for a moment.

“Am I the only one who hasn’t forgotten? The only one who still worries?” 

“You aren’t,” Red answers, “but maybe you’re the only one who hasn’t moved on.”

The direct statement finds Shadow unnerved. “Why?”

“It hurt you most.”

Shadow’s eyes jump to meet Red’s, and he almost expects to find them averted. He finds them prepared to find his own, though, and almost wilts under the contact. When he can no longer hold the stare, his eyes drift away, only to land on the scars peeking out of Red’s collar. “How could it have _ever_ hurt me the most?” 

Red hums, thoughtful, before he replies, “Hurt is worse when none of it is physical, Shadow.”

“That’s pretty philosophical of you, Red,” Shadow laughs, though the sound is slightly bitter with oncoming tears. For a moment, he feels the strength of Red’s arm under his hand, and recalls how easily he moved him across the floor, and realizes he has grown up. He still cries, still stops to pet dogs on the street, still feels others’ sadness as his own, but he isn’t the same. Shadow has been acutely aware of this, in some sense, as he has been there for the changes in all of his friends. Yet, he sees it so clearly now, and wonders if he has changed at all.

“I can’t take credit; Blue’s the one who said it first,” Red recalls. He pauses, before adding, “But it was pretty philosophical for him, too.” He tries to get Shadow to look at him again with a slight nudge, only to see him beginning to cry.

“When will I let any of it go?” Shadow whispers, his voice little more than a pained rattle.

Red embraces him, wordless, and Shadow hears the shaky inhale that betrays how soon he will be crying, too. “I don’t know,” he admits, “but we can wait.”

Shadow knows what he is, and he wonders how Red doesn’t. Even now, so close to him, he can recall the insatiable desire for blood, and it doesn’t pull him nearer as it did before, but he distantly wonders if it is as good as he remembers. Why does Red not understand that monsters will never change?

“I’m sorry,” Shadow chokes out, the words as familiar as a labored breath.

“I forgive you,” Red says, the same as he has a thousand times before. Just as Shadow sees his age reflected in his actions, he hears his youth in the same way. Young at heart, while Shadow’s meager years crush his own. His hand moves from Shadow’s back to tangle in his locks, holding him infinitely closer. His lungs work overtime, but fail to steady him enough to hold back the storm of tears. “Never doubt that I have forgiven you.”

Shadow tries to steady himself, then- for both of them he must. He has learned how to comfort others over the years, but those lessons fail him now, as he stammers aimlessly.

“I know,” Red replies anyway, right as he pulls back enough to look at him again. “I know,” he repeats, his hands coming to hold Shadow’s face, thumbs right at the corners of his eyes.

“I know,” Red says once more, and kisses him.

Shadow’s world crumbles, but chooses to reform itself around this moment. It doesn’t last, of course, but he remembers that he is human because monsters do not have hearts that swell as his must have.

Red’s face still has the lines of tears running down it, but he smiles again, glowing even as the movement forces more to fall. “Let’s celebrate with our friends tonight. There’s a thousand nights left to cry, but only one wedding for Green and Zelda to experience. We’d regret not being part of it,” he says.

Shadow nods. “You’ll cry if you look at Zelda again, anyway,” he retorts, despite his agreement. Just as Red begins to pull away, Shadow holds tighter to him. “One more song,” he suggests.

Though Red makes a good effort to look like he’s thinking about it, Shadow can tell he is going to agree before he speaks. “One more won’t hurt.”

They don’t _really_ dance- they only sway to a vague rhythm. The room is not spinning, and they are not spinning, but Shadow feels the ground beneath him and Red against him, and he is steady.

**Author's Note:**

> LIKE COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE GARBAGE


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